


Make an Honest Man Out of Me

by manixzen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Fluff and Humor, Human Disaster Draco Malfoy, Human Disaster Harry Potter, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, The Boys are a Disaster, everybody finds out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manixzen/pseuds/manixzen
Summary: Harry and Draco weren’t sure how it had got so out of hand. At first, it was just a hook-up, a random encounter after meeting at a pub. No reason to tell their friends and families about that. And when it turned into dating and got a bit more serious than that? Well, who could blame them for stalling on breaking the news?Or the five times Harry and Draco failed to come clean to their friends and the one time they didn’t.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 65
Kudos: 643





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kellerific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellerific/gifts).



> Thank you to [kellerific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellerific/) for this amazing prompt! I hope I did it justice.
> 
> [Harleybarley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleybarley/), thanks once again for an excellent beta—I really appreciate you!
> 
> The struggle bus picked me up in the middle of this fic and wouldn’t let me off, so I need to thank the entire gwb discord server, JocSykes, and vukovich for helping out at various points! I really appreciate the brainstorming and support while I threw out half the plot and started over!

Neither Harry nor Draco were sure how it had got so out of hand. At first, it was just a hook-up, a random encounter after meeting at a pub. No reason to tell their friends and families about that. No one needed to know the details of their sex lives, after all. And if that one night turned into several, it still wasn’t anyone’s business what either of them did in the privacy of their own bedrooms.

Then later, when Harry pulled together his Gryffindor courage and asked Draco out on a date, and when that one date turned into two and then three, it still just didn’t seem enough to tell anyone yet. How were they even to know it would work out? If there were ever a pair that had the potential to self-implode, it was clearly them. Why get everyone upset over nothing? The Weasleys weren’t likely to take this match much better than the Malfoys, they reasoned. No need to upset anyone.

But the dating went well, amazingly even. Sure, they fought… over whose turn it was to pick-up takeaway or Harry’s clothes strewn about or Draco’s need to take an hour in the bathroom every morning. But it was good.

They went on dates and ordered in. They listened to Quidditch curled up on the sofa on rainy afternoons. They talked about their days and shared their secrets.

But it still never seemed like the right time to tell everyone. Surely, it was okay for them to have this just for themselves. Just until they were certain. So, when the Gryffindors’ pub nights continued to expand with former classmates, and Draco found himself pulled into the fold with Blaise and Pansy… well, Harry and Draco did what any reasonable couple would do in that situation and pretended they barely knew one another. Even after Draco apologised to Harry’s friends, and Ron and Hermione had warmed up to him, and Ginny and Pansy inexplicably started dating, they just couldn’t bring themselves to tell their friends. How could they explain they’d been lying that whole time? And, so, while their weekends were spent wrapped in one another’s arms, their Thursdays were spent with curt nods and avoided glances.

Once they finally realized how serious it was, how in love they were, telling everyone seemed an impossible task. How was Harry to tell his friends and adopted family that he’d been secretly dating Draco Malfoy for over a year? How was Draco to tell his parents who were still trying to match-make a spouse for him that he was already taken? And by the Saviour of the Wizarding World, at that. So, they made their excuses and kept to their flimsy lies and spent lazy Sunday mornings at Harry’s place and more energetic Friday nights at Draco’s flat.

While both of them had turned out to be excellent at the procrastination of uncomfortable things, they might have found a way to come clean, given enough time. But then there was the Las Vegas vacation. It was meant to just be a little get-away, nothing big, just a quick jump by an international Portkey. But they’d seen the little chapel with the neon lights, and they’d looked into one another’s eyes, and with a laugh, Harry had dragged Draco straight to the altar.

It only made sense to move in together afterwards. Harry didn’t really want to stay at Grimmauld Place any more, and Draco’s flat was too small for both of them. So, buying a house in the country was the logical choice. And, really, they’d meant to tell everyone at that point; really, they had. They’d talked about it at length, coming up with plans, discussing who should be told first and how. But then life got busy, and Lucius had been in and out of St Mungo’s. So they’d kept up the excuses: the house was still being renovated, not in any shape for visitors, completely busy this weekend.

That had been two months ago.

* * *

Harry dipped a spoon into the pan, leaning over while he tasted the bolognese sauce. He frowned as he put the spoon back down on the counter; it needed something. Opening the cupboard, he looked through the glass bottles his husband had labelled from the garden. Finally, he settled on adding some additional basil, making sure to put the bottle back exactly where he found it.

At first, he’d found Draco’s obsession with “everything must have a place” in the house endearing; it was such a stark contrast to the absolute mess he made throughout the rest of the house on any given day. That had been when they were still living separately though. Then, they’d bought the house in the country and Harry had to hear about it every time he so much as moved something in the kitchen, while at the same time having to clean up random mugs left all over the house. Apparently growing up with house-elves had not taught the man much about housekeeping or general cleanliness. 

They’d had more than a few spats about it that first month. Now Harry had adjusted, though. While Draco’s little idiosyncrasies hadn’t quite come back around to endearing, he’d at least given up on changing the man. So, Harry dealt with cleaning up the random things Draco left around the house while still making sure everything in the kitchen and bathroom went back exactly where it was found with a roll of his eyes. And, though Harry would never admit it, it was nice to actually be able to find what he was looking for when he was cooking. He hadn’t burned a single meal while frantically casting _Accios_ trying to find the last few ingredients since they’d moved in together.

“What are you looking at?” Harry asked the very hopeful English Setter looking up at him. She huffed and laid her head on her paws, not breaking eye contact.

“You cannot have any. We have been over this,” Harry said, turning to her as he leaned up against the counter. “It has garlic _and_ onions and last time we gave you some, you stunk up the entire house.”

She whined a high pitch plea, and Harry sighed.

“Fine, you can have some cheese,” he said, turning back to the counter to cut off a small piece of parmesan. She jumped up, her nails clicking on the kitchen floor. He’d need to trim those again. Even with magic, it was a nightmare getting her to sit still long enough.

“Okay, Minnie. Sit.” Harry held up the piece of cheese.

She sat immediately, and Harry carefully handed her the cheese, making sure to not get his hand caught in her over-excited jaws. It had taken some convincing to get Draco to agree on a non-Magical pet, but after Harry had explained at length how difficult it would be to take a crup for a walk in their nearby village, Draco finally relented and agreed to go to the rescue, just to _look_. But one look at Minnie, with her big brown eyes and her speckled fur, and Draco had completely caved.

A pop of apparition sounded from the sitting room, and Minnie took off running to greet her other person. Draco walked in the kitchen a few minutes later with a very happy dog following behind, tail wagging, just as Harry was dropping the pasta into boiling water.

“Smells amazing,” he said as he came up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry relaxed back into him. “How was your day?”

“Stupid. How was yours?” Draco pulled him tighter.

“Good. I talked to Terry about the next fundraiser and finally got some paperwork done,” Harry replied. 

After trying to do all of it himself with varying levels of success for too long, he finally had heeded both Hermione’s and Draco’s advice about hiring staff for his charity. Once he’d hired the right people, it ran far more smoothly, but Harry often found himself at ends without much to do. He tried not to complain about it too often, though, as Draco was regularly overworked and exhausted in his finance role at Gringotts.

Draco gave him a kiss on the cheek and then released Harry to walk over to the table. He pulled out a chair before sitting down with a sigh.

“So what happened today?” Harry asked, glancing over at him before setting the pot to pour over the strainer with a spell, while he checked on the sauce.

“Just one of those days where everything that could go wrong went wrong. Lost paperwork, Jones was on my case about the Pennyworth Estate, Rabgrod threatened to move my office again to a lower level,” Draco said, scratching Minnie behind her ears. “But enough about that. It’s the weekend.”

“You still going clubbing with Pansy and Ginny after dinner with your parents tomorrow?” Harry asked, arranging the finished meal on plates before levitating them to the otherwise set table.

“You sure you don’t want to come? I’m sure we could procure a nondescript Muggle for you to Polyjuice into,” Draco said with a glint in his eye.

Harry shooed Minnie from the table where she was already trying on pitiful expressions in hopes of a taste and then sat down.

“I’ll pass. I’m not gambling that Ginny doesn’t see right through me.” Harry laughed. While they occasionally went to Muggle clubs to get out, just the two of them, he could never relax in wizarding establishments. He might not have finished Auror training, but he remembered very clearly all the ways a disguise could fail. And he certainly didn’t trust that one of his closest friends wouldn’t cotton on.

“Plus, I’ll be too full from Molly’s cooking for dancing.” Harry spun his pasta on his fork before taking a bit too large of a bite.

They fell into a comfortable silence, resolutely ignoring the dog laying next to the table doing her best to look pathetic and starved. 

“You know, my father’s been stable for nearly a month now,” Draco said, looking pensive.

Harry chewed slowly and swallowed, before taking a drink of water. “I think most everyone is planning on making it to pub night next week.”

“Right. We could just get it over with all at once, at least with our friends.”

Harry ignored the twist in his gut at how their friends would react to the news. Not that he was with Draco; he was relatively certain they’d be fine with that after all this time, but that they’d kept their entire lives a secret.

“It’ll be fine. They’ll get over it,” Draco said, taking a long drink of his wine.

“Right,” Harry sighed.

* * *

Draco walked slowly from Gringotts through Diagon Alley, his hands already clammy. They needed to come clean; it was well overdue. Their hodgepodge group of friends would give them a lot of crap, particularly about the marriage part, Draco thought with a grimace. But he also knew they’d get over it. 

His parents on the other hand… He knew that would go even less smoothly. And standing up to them had never been one of his talents. For the past eight years, he’d dealt with their plans for him to marry a pureblood witch by pure avoidance. He’d refined his ability to change topics and derail even the best attempts. 

Draco knew his mother suspected he was gay; they’d had a few awkward almost-conversations about it. His father had never given any indication that he had any idea. Draco didn’t feel obligated to share any part of his personal life with the man, either. Not since the war. He did his son duty and showed up to the occasional family dinner and holiday, but otherwise preferred to keep his business to himself. He certainly didn’t want his father attempting to intervene in any aspect of his life. 

When he’d started spending his nights with Harry, Draco had laughed privately, thinking about how his father would have reacted had he found out. He let himself relish the small amount of vindictiveness at his choice of partners, knowing his father would never actually know. Harry and he were far too careful for the press to catch wind of their relationship. That was long before he had even considered there might be a future for the two of them. The idea it was going to last had seemed ridiculous at the time. 

Draco steeled himself as he neared the pub. This was it; once the kneazle was out of the bag, they’d have to tell everyone. He hoped his father didn’t say too many insulting things about his husband to his face. Though, that was likely a lost cause.

He sighed with that thought in mind as he entered the Dragon’s Lair, a relaxed pub that had a zero-tolerance policy for reporters harassing their clients; no question about how it had become a favourite for pub night amongst Harry’s friends long before the Slytherins had been brought into the fold. 

The group already had pulled several tables together, chairs clustered around and a long bench on one side. Harry was seated at the far end with Ron, Hermione and Neville. Draco usually stuck to the other end as it was far easier to keep up their charade if they didn’t actually have to talk to each other. Given their plans to announce their relationship tonight, he wasn’t sure if he should stick to his side or try to sit by Harry. Would it be a nice segue into the topic if he sat next to the man for the first time? Merlin, he realized they hadn’t really planned this out at all. They just decided to come clean with absolutely no thought as to how they were going to broach the topic. 

Draco tried to make eye contact with Harry, but he was resolutely watching Hermione who was talking animatedly about something. Draco wondered if Harry actually hadn’t seen him walk-in or if he was chickening out. Probably the latter, he thought. Some Gryffindor he married. Harry would jump in front of a stray curse to save someone without a second thought, but given an awkward social situation and he ran for the hills every time. 

Before Draco could make a decision on his seating choice for the evening, Pansy was pulling him down into the chair next to her, Ginny on her other side. 

“Malfoy,” Ginny said in greeting with a relaxed smile.

Pansy hollered for someone to get Draco a drink and one slid down the table toward him in a matter of seconds. 

He nodded once in thanks and let his eyes flick back to Harry, who still hadn’t looked over. Draco was going to kill the man; Harry was going to make Draco make the first move, he just knew it. 

“Everything alright?” Pansy raised an eyebrow following the direction of his gaze, before sighing. “You need to learn how to move on, Draco. He’s not such a git anymore, you know.”

Draco suppressed a sound of frustration as Pansy shared a look with her girlfriend. He had quite a few thoughts at that moment about exactly how much of a git his husband was, actually. Pushing that thought aside, he took a long swig of his beer. Ok, this was it. He’d just tell Pansy and Ginny, and he’d let their reactions inform the rest of the table. He took one last look at Harry and couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed as he looked at his husband who was still resolutely avoiding any eye contact. Harry was definitely going to pay for this later. There was nothing to be done for it now, though, if he wanted their friends to know. 

Draco inhaled, just as Ginny added, “We know you two still dislike each other, but we’d appreciate it if you could at least try to get along for the next few months.”

Draco looked at her, brow furrowing at her choice of words, temporarily distracted from his task. 

Ginny smiled and looked at Pansy again.

“We have a bit of an announcement,” Ginny said. “Ready, love?”

Pansy grinned broadly and stood up. “Can we have your attention, please?”

Everyone stopped their own conversations and looked over. 

Harry even finally looked in their direction, his face etched with panic. Draco almost laughed, realising Harry thought Pansy was about to announce their relationship status. 

Before he could enjoy his husband’s discomfort for too long, Pansy continued. “We’re engaged!” 

Ginny stood up and wrapped her arms around Pansy and dipped her into a kiss. Hoots and whistles rang out as everyone loudly congratulated the couple. 

Harry finally looked at Draco, eyes wide. Draco did his best to give him a look that explained exactly how much trouble he was in. Not only had Harry avoided the entire situation, they never even got to make their announcement. And they couldn’t very well do it now. Even Draco wasn’t that much of an arsehole. They’d need to let Pansy and Ginny have their moment. 

Draco sighed and took a long drink of his beer. Well, there was always the next pub night.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry tugged at his robes. They weren’t quite formal, but they were just dressy enough to be highly uncomfortable. Draco had  _ insisted _ that it would be an embarrassment if Harry wore blue jeans and a t-shirt to a baby shower. Harry had tried to argue that since no one knew they were together, it wouldn’t look poorly on Draco anyway. In fact, it could give him another reason to glare at him for the event. Of course, that only reminded his husband that they still hadn’t managed to tell their friends. Harry saw the warning signs of a fight brewing, so he dressed quickly in the robes Draco handed him and didn’t say another word. 

They had another week until their next pub night, and Draco had made it very clear that Harry was going to be the one to make the announcement after completely avoiding Draco at the last pub night. Harry wanted to argue on principle, but he knew he’d completely chickened out. Draco had spent the entire next weekend muttering about cowardly Gryffindors when he wasn’t panicking about how they were supposed to both be best men for their friends’ upcoming wedding if they were still lying to them. This whole situation was so out of control. Really, it had been out of control a year ago; now it was so past out of control, it was careening away off a cliff at an absurd speed. 

There was nothing they could do about it at the moment, at any rate. They would never take away from Luna and Blaise’s moment today. They were having their first baby, so Harry and Draco would show up, separately, and wish the couple well. 

Harry had never been to a baby shower before; Luna had insisted on having a co-ed shower, since, as she had put it, “they would be parenting together, why wouldn’t they celebrate the coming child together?” While Draco had only been to a few as a child when he went with his mother, he seemed to know quite a bit about the social expectations surrounding them. Harry supposed he should have been grateful, but he still wished he was in his comfortable jeans. He doubted anyone would have expected otherwise of him. 

With another tug at his collar, Harry made his way through the gardens at Parkinson Estate, shifting the shrunken present he carried to his other hand. When Luna had expressed her desire to have the shower outside so that they could be closer to the good energy of the earth, Pansy had insisted on the gardens at her parent’s estate. Harry had to admit, it was a good setting. The early spring flowers were in full bloom, and once he was under the climate charms that cut through the chill in the air, it was quite comfortable. He made his way through another path toward the large patio filled with round tables, covered in colourful decorations. Each table seemed to have some sort of themed charm above it, as one was sprouting a rainbow and another one blowing bubbles upwards. 

“Harry!” Luna spotted him immediately and came over to greet him. She looked lovely in a billowy yellow sundress, a bump on her stomach protruding out, and flowers throughout her braided hair. “I’m so happy you could make it,”

“Congratulations,” he said, leaning into a hug. “Where should I er—” He held up his hand with the gift. 

“Oh, just let me,” she pulled her wand out of a hidden pocket in the folds of her dress and levitated it away. “That’s lovely wrapping, Harry.”

“Thanks,” he said, not able to inform her that the whole thing was Draco’s doing. After several confused minutes looking at the registry list, Draco had huffed and said he’d take care of it lest Harry get something completely inappropriate. 

He scanned the gardens and saw his husband already in a conversation with Ginny and Pansy, no doubt planning the wedding. While both of them were asked to be their best men, Draco was taking on the lion’s share of the tasks. Apparently, no one actually expected Harry to do much of anything, which both irritated and relieved him.

“Place cards are on the table,” Luna said, smiling as she gestured to a long table below many floating colourful pieces of paper. “The colour of your card indicates your table. Oh—there’s Millie and Daphne!”

After she turned to greet her newly arrived guests, Harry went and found his name on a bright blue card, managing to grab it as it tried to float out of reach. He looked around and found the blue table, with blue butterflies flitting about in a haphazard pattern above the centre of the table. 

It looked like most of the seats had already been claimed, as there were a few cards floating in front of the place settings and a couple half-finished drinks strewn about. Most of the people who had already arrived at the party seemed to be Blaise’s friends and family, so Harry took one of the unclaimed seats, tossing his card in front of him where it floated gently behind a plate and napkin, both also decorated with bright blue butterflies. 

Harry scanned the garden again. Most of his friends still hadn’t arrived. Ginny was still wrapped up in an animated conversation with Pansy and Draco, and other than a few other Slytherins, he didn’t recognise anyone else. He fiddled with his napkin, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, as he caught a few guests clearly staring at him. He had no idea if it was his general fame or if members of Blaise’s family had been on the other side of the war, even just if in their beliefs. He sighed, hoping at least Luna had the sense to put Ron and Hermione at his table. 

“Heya, Harry.” 

Harry turned as Neville pulled out a chair, sitting down next to him. He exhaled and greeted him. 

“I think I’m supposed to be at the rainbow table,” Neville said, holding up his multi-coloured card. “But right now there are two old witches commenting on what everyone is wearing, so I thought I’d hide out here for a while.”

Harry laughed. “Well, I’ll be glad for the company. I felt like a git just sitting here alone. Have you been to one of these before?”

“No, when my cousin Tamara had hers, she only invited witches. My gran thinks it’s improper to invite wizards—some rubbish about pregnancy not being appropriate to talk about in ‘mixed company’.” Neville rolled his eyes.

Harry hummed in agreement, unsure that he was really happy about having been invited. As soon as he had the thought, he felt guilty. He knew he should be glad to celebrate such a major event for his friend; he just really hated formal social events. Going to the pub was fine, but as soon as he needed to remotely dress up, he knew he wasn’t going to have a good time. 

“I thought it’d be more like weddings, you know? Where all the friends get sat at the same table.” Neville looked around. 

Harry followed his eyes and frowned as he saw that his friends, who had started to arrive, were all indeed scattered around the patio at different tables, no more than two at a table. Suppressing a sigh, he reminded himself that they were there for Luna, and it would be over in a few hours. They fell back into small talk as they awaited the start of the shower. 

While Neville filled him in on the latest plants he’d ordered for his greenhouse, the other seats at his table began to slowly fill in. Harry nodded to the other guests as they arrived, a little disconcerted that he didn’t recognise anyone at his table. A middle-aged man that had a very strong resemblance to Luna’s father took a seat on Harry’s other side, and leaned over to a similarly aged woman on his right. Harry struggled to follow Neville’s story as he heard “Harry Potter” pop up several times in their whispered conversation. 

A series of soft bells chimed. Harry looked to the long rectangular table that had been set up at the far end of the patio to see Luna and Blaise standing in front of it. To their left was a pile of gifts perched on a similarly long table, and on their other side was a table filled with what looked like various small cakes, stacked on tall tiered trays. 

“Thank you so much for coming; if you could all find your seats,” Luna said with a large smile, watching as the remaining guests found their way to their assigned table. Neville patted Harry on the shoulder as he made his way to the rainbow table. No sooner had he vacated his seat that Harry saw a figure looming to his side. He looked up to see Draco looking at the table and his very blue place card. Neville’s seat was the only one still open, so after a short glance at Harry, he took his seat. 

Harry felt himself stiffen. Their primary means of avoiding being caught had always been just avoiding one another in public. He had no idea if they’d be able to pull this off; they’d never even tried. Harry’s palms broke out in a sweat as he tried to remember how to act. How did he use to behave around the man? He could hardly remember at this point, given how long it had been. The more he tried to think back, the more his head filled with images of lazy Sunday breakfasts and walks through the country near their home with Minnie. 

Draco looked similarly uncomfortable, seemingly holding himself as far from Harry as possible. 

While Harry had already regretted how pub night had turned out—that they hadn’t managed to come clean—he regretted it more in that moment. They couldn’t possibly let the news come out in the middle of Luna and Blaise’s shower, so now they’d need to figure out how to act normal. Well, not normal. Whatever their friends assumed was normal between them in their fictional still-hate-one-another worlds. Harry grit his teeth and kept his eyes firmly forward, trying to ignore his husband’s subtle nervous movements beside him. 

“Thank you, everyone. We’re so happy you could come to celebrate this lovely day with us.” Luna smiled at Blaise, who had a general air of contentment about him. Harry felt a momentary stab of envy at the couple, openly happy in front of all their friends and family. 

She put a hand on her belly and continued, “We planned some of the traditional games and shower activities today, but we’re hoping that you can all get to know one another as you will be the shared family of our new addition. So we tried to seat you as best we could with those you don’t know well."

Several hums of understanding rung out as guests looked around at the peculiar seating arrangement; Harry heard a slightly strangled noise come from Draco but willed himself to not look. Blaise then said a few words, and they introduced the grandparents-to-be, who said a few more words. Eventually, appetisers were served. 

Once the speeches were done, Harry had the added issue of where to look at his table. The couple to his right turned out to be cousins of Xenophilius Lovegood. They were openly ogling him, so he had no desire to so much as tilt his body in their direction and open up room for conversation. Meanwhile, Draco was to his left, staring resolutely at his own plate, while taking absurdly small bites of his food, likely to prolong the activity. 

Harry weighed his options and decided to attempt a conversation with the elderly woman on the other side of Draco. 

“How do you know them?” he asked once she looked in his direction. 

“What?”

“Blaise and Luna, are you family?” Harry asked.

“What?” she asked again, louder. Her eyes squinted as she leaned towards Draco and Harry. 

“ARE YOU FAMILY?”

“I don’t think I’m your family, dear, but there are so many grandchildren these days,” she replied with a smile, before taking a shaky hand to pick up her water glass. 

Draco exhaled sharply, lips pressed together; Harry couldn’t quite tell if he was suppressing a laugh or suppressing saying something snarky to Harry, but he decided it was better to give up on that conversation either way. 

Harry sat back in his chair, feeling itchy from the thick silence. He pretended to be engrossed in the blue butterflies over their table while keeping his body just tilted enough from the couple on his right to signal that he was not open to a conversation. 

“Hello, everyone.”

Harry looked up to see Hermione with a large bag on her arm. 

“This is for the first game we’ll be playing,” she said as she pulled out a bundle of things that Harry couldn’t quite make out and put it on the far end of the table and then another one a few seats to his right. Finally, she came around towards him and placed a bundle in front of Draco with a smile. 

Brow furrowed, Draco pulled open the soft yellow fabric in front of him. Harry saw that it was a baby onesie wrapped around what appeared to be art supplies. 

Harry looked up at Hermione, who was still standing just behind him. 

“For the first game, we’ll all be decorating onesies for the baby. Luna has asked that you let your creativity run wild.” Hermione smiled and shared a look with Harry; he could only imagine what Luna was expecting. Somehow he doubted any of her guests would live up to her level of creativity. 

“Also, she and Blaise will choose a winning onesie for a small prize.” Hermione patted Harry on the shoulder with a small laugh and then went to the next table to deliver similar instructions. 

Draco pursed his lips again and started placing the art supplies in front of him, spreading them out enough so that Harry and the grandmother could reach. 

The other teams got started quickly, while Draco and Harry stared at the spread before them. The grandmother didn’t seem to be interested and had turned away from them to talk to the man on the other side of her. The man seemed to be doing little better with a conversation than Harry had.

“So, erm—” Harry started.

“Right, so we’ll just decorate the onesie,” Draco replied, holding himself a little too still.

Harry chanced a glance up at him and saw a look somewhere between panic and resignation on his husband’s face. He hadn’t moved a muscle, and Harry had a sudden thought of a documentary he’d watched on animals that had discussed “flight, fight or freeze” as responses to a threat. Draco bore a strong resemblance to a frozen gazelle in that moment. At the thought, Harry felt his face twist up awkwardly as he worked at not laughing.

Clearing his throat, Harry grabbed what appeared to be blue glitter. “Okay, decorations. We can do this.” He started to unscrew the cap when Draco finally seemed to pull himself out of it and finally looked over. 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked.

“Decorating the onesie,” Harry said slowly, as he gestured to the tiny baby garment, wondering if this had finally broken his husband. 

Draco huffed. “I know that, idiot. I meant with the glitter. You need to stick it to something, you can’t just toss glitter at the thing.”

“So we’ll just…” Harry pulled out his wand.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You can’t use sticking spells on clothing. They wouldn’t hold up with the amount of cleaning spells even a normal garment would need, let alone anything an infant would wear.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know that?” Harry put the cap back on a little harder than necessary. “It’s not like I go around decorating baby clothes normally. And forgive me for not knowing all your fancy-pants garment knowledge.”

“I was assuming you knew the basics of how clothing worked, dear,” Draco replied with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry could see the moment Draco registered the slip of the endearment as his eyes went wide, and his body stiffened again.

Harry cleared his throat, deciding he’d better keep talking before Draco froze up again. Banter was preferable to another uncomfortable silence. “Well, no. I clearly haven’t your glitter or clothing knowledge.”

“Hey, Harry—”

Harry startled. He turned to see Hermione gesturing him over to where she was standing at the edge of the patio. She looked concerned. 

His stomach dropped as he got up, wondering just how much she heard. At least he knew she wouldn’t make a big fuss of it at a friend’s shower. 

When he got to her, she jerked her head to the side where there was a small path, a flyaway curl escaping at the movement. He followed her a short distance down the path until she turned and put her hand on his arm.

“Hey, Harry. I know you and Draco still don’t get along, but can you please try to not antagonise him? Luna and Blaise must have wanted you two to start getting along for her to have sat you together,” she said softly, giving him a small but pitying smile.

It took every ounce of control he had not to burst out laughing. Instead, he cleared his throat and tried to school his expression. Once the initial shock wore off, creeping indignation rose. 

“I wasn’t antagonising him, Hermione,” Harry said.

“Harry, we could hear your argument all the way at the other table,” she replied, pursing her lips. 

He let out a small sound of frustration and ran a hand through his hair. There was no possible way to convince her without telling the truth, so he settled for acquiescence. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

Before she could continue the line of conversation, he turned and headed back to his table. Draco was busying himself with the onesie, but Harry could see the tension radiating off of him. 

Once he sat down, Draco’s eyes flicked up to him, and in a low voice, he asked, “What was that about?”

“We need to be nice to each other and stop arguing,” Harry replied just as quietly.

Draco snorted. “For Salazar’s sake.”

“I know,” Harry whispered, holding back a laugh. 

Fortunately, Hermione’s little intervention had meant Harry was off the hook for the craft project, as Draco had finished embellishing the onesie with rainbows and clouds and a few dabs of glitter on the paint of the drawings. Unfortunately, that gave them nothing more to comfortably talk about without either bickering or being too familiar. So, they went back to sitting in awkward silence. 

It was going to be a long afternoon. 

* * *

Draco cursed his luck as he walked at a brisk pace toward the Dragon’s Lair. Last night, he’d sat Harry down and insisted they come up with a plan for pub night, but it was already going to hell. They had decided that Draco would leave work early to get there closer to when Harry usually arrived. They’d sit together and then, as soon as everyone got there, make the announcement. 

That was before Ragbrod had insisted that there was an error in Draco’s last report on gold investments. So, instead of cutting out early, he was pulled into a meeting to go over his report, in which there were no errors, in excruciating detail. 

Checking his wristwatch again, he picked up the pace. Instead of being early, he was now running even later than normal. He knew he was never going to hear the end of it from Harry, either. Not after all the crap that he gave him after last month’s pub night. There was nothing to do about it now, though. 

Draco pulled open the heavy oak door and was hit with a blast of warm air, a contrast to the damp spring chill outside. The table was already full and it looked like everyone was there. Harry looked up and caught his eye, lips pursed. Draco sighed and shrugged.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Hermione called out from her seat across from Harry. “We were waiting until everyone got here."

Draco froze. Did Harry already tell them? He glanced at Harry to see that his husband looked just as confused as he felt. 

“We have something we’d like to share with everyone,” she continued, with a grin on her face, looking over at Ron. There couldn’t possibly be another announcement, last he checked Weasley and Hermione were already married.

“Didn’t we do this last time?” Seamus hollered out, and Draco quietly agreed. 

Ron threw a napkin at him and gestured for Hermione to continue. 

“We’re having a baby!” Hermione put her hand on her, still flat, belly, while the table exploded in congratulations. 

Draco stifled an overdramatic sigh. Of course. He knew that they were all of the age where everyone was getting married and having kids, so it wasn’t that unusual to have so many events going on in a row, but he and Harry just couldn’t catch a break. He put on a large smile and congratulated the couple, lest they think he was being rude. He’d done his best to make amends with the two, particularly trying to keep his relationship with them amicable after Harry and he started dating. Given Harry’s basically adopted status as a Weasley, they were, for all intents and purposes, his in-laws, after all—not that the Weasleys had any knowledge of their relationship to Draco. That had certainly helped him get out of holiday obligations, one perk he’d miss in the future. 

Once Draco felt he’d done his due diligence in showing the proper excitement at the news, he dropped into his usual seat at the end of the table near Pansy. 

“You made it,” she said as he sat. 

“Yeah. Just had a meeting run late,” he replied, grabbing the beer someone handed to him. The upside to being the last to arrive was that someone else always took care of the first round or two. And usually, at least when it wasn’t Seamus or Dean buying the first round, they’d make sure his drink was ready for him when he arrived. Not everyone had warmed to him over the years. 

“How are the house renovations going?” Ginny asked after returning to her seat after giving her brother and sister-in-law bodily hugs. 

Draco suppressed a grimace. While he normally had very few issues with stretching the truth when it was convenient, it was starting to feel highly unethical. Harry was probably rubbing off on him. Draco internally cursed the man; things were much easier before he started worrying about lying to a Weasley, of all people. 

Knowing he had to keep up the ruse for the moment, he filled her in on his fictional renovations to his fictional house. When it all first started, he’d decided he felt strange using their real house in his lies—as if it would taint their happiness. So, he’d invented a home, location, decor, layout and all in his head, making sure to fully imagine up the whole thing in advance to better keep his lies consistent. At this point, the house nearly felt real to him. 

Harry had a decidedly more difficult time with his chosen stories. First, he had no natural ability for truth-stretching, deceitfulness, or lies. Second, he’d chosen a magical pest infestation of Grimmauld Place as his cover story, so he was left coming up with increasingly complicated situations that both allowed him to stop visitors from coming over to visit and stop them from coming over to help. Since the new owner of the old Black house had been primarily interested in the place because of its various protections and unmappable location, Harry didn’t need to worry about anyone knowing about the sale. Unfortunately, keeping Grimmauld Place as his fictional residence also meant that everyone thought they knew where he lived and could potentially attempt to drop in at any time. 

While Draco found himself often anxious that Harry’s lies were going to come crashing down like an unstable house of exploding snap cards, it turned out that his primarily Gryffindor friends never even considered Harry might be less than honest and continued to believe some of the most ridiculous stories. This still didn’t stop Draco from panicking every time he caught wind of another flimsy attempt at a cover-up from his husband, though. He wished he’d had the foresight to teach Harry how to keep it simple before they got themselves into the mess. It was too late now, at any rate, so Harry kept to his increasingly outlandish excuses and Draco to his more simple ones, with a held breath and crossed fingers, they hoped for the best. 

After answering a few more of Pansy and Ginny’s questions about the house, Draco took a long drink and glanced over at Harry who was talking animatedly with Ron and Hermione. Harry had a bright smile on his face, and Draco felt his mood soften, glad to see Harry’s family growing. He knew how much Harry wanted kids of his own. They’d talked about it, of course, but given their current situation they had decided it was best not to bring kids into the fold until they’d solved some of their communication issues with their families and friends. Someday, though. 

“So, Draco, Saturday,” Pansy started, and he looked over at her.

“Yes?”

“The florist had a cancellation and can get us in during the afternoon,” Pansy continued. “Ginny is going to take Harry to go cake testing since we figure he can actually help with that.”

Draco snorted. 

“Play nice,” Ginny warned, without much heat. 

So far the women had been doing their best to keep Draco and Harry apart during the wedding planning. Draco assumed they didn’t want to deal with warring groomsmen, and apparently, their “fight” at Luna’s party had only solidified their thoughts on the matter. He desperately wanted to just break the news to the two of them and just leave everyone else for later, but Pansy and Ginny had both been getting increasingly testy with their wedding planning. They were trying to get married in just a couple short months, wanting to take advantage of summer in the Parkinson Estate gardens while also avoiding Ginny’s training schedule with her team. With the strain that came with accelerated wedding planning, the two women were stressed and quarrelsome. Every time he visualised breaking the news, the scenario went extremely poorly, so he figured it was best to make their announcement to their whole group of friends all at once. Protection in numbers and all that. 

Draco hadn’t thought they’d have to wait long at any rate, not until this unexpected baby announcement. Now they’d have to regroup. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to wait for the next pub night. They usually met up about once a month. When they were a bit younger, they’d gone weekly or every other week, but as more of the group got married, had kids, or got promotions at work that required more hours, the meetups had become further apart. He wondered if they should just tell Ginny and Pansy and be done with it. He decided to talk to Harry about it later that night. 

With a sigh, Draco turned back to his conversation and confirmed with Pansy that he could help her with more wedding planning on Saturday. Really, that would be the perfect day. They could sit Pansy and Ginny down and tell them the whole story. It would be better that way anyway—instead of dealing with the whole crowd, they could just tell two of their closest friends first. Draco felt his mood lift at the thought. Saturday, it was. 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry sipped on his mimosa, letting himself relax marginally. It had been a hell of a month. Everything had been looking up, friends were getting married, having kids, and Draco and he had plans to tell everyone about them. Then, the Saturday after their last pub night everything had fallen apart. Ginny and Pansy had a massive row and nearly called off the wedding. 

Harry had arrived at their flat to pick up Ginny for cake testing, and Draco was meeting Pansy at her parent’s where she was making some last-minute decisions with the gardener before meeting with the florist. Expecting a relaxed day of hanging out with his friend and eating cake, he was not prepared to walk in to find her on the sofa, still in her pyjamas, puffy-eyed and miserable. After an hour of listening to the play-by-play of their argument, Harry still didn’t understand what had happened. When he talked to Draco later that evening, his husband had been equally confused about the whole mess, but Draco was sure it had to be just a combination of nerves and stress. 

Even though using the Parkinson estate as the venue had simplified their planning on such a short schedule, there was still an overwhelming amount of planning to be done, especially since they were already up to nearly 300 guests. Between Ginny’s large family, Pansy’s socialite parents, Ginny’s teammates, and all their combined friends, the guest list had just kept growing. 

Draco and Harry secretly coordinated behind the scenes to calm the situation between their friends down and get the wedding back on track. Draco convinced Pansy to take the following weekend off for a short trip to Paris to their favourite spa. Meanwhile, Harry took Ginny to take a Portkey to Texas for that same weekend to catch a game of Quadpot, which was something she’d expressed interest in. By the time they got back, Ginny and Pansy were able to talk it out, and the wedding was back on, but the added stress put a damper on Harry and Draco’s plans to sit them down and tell them the truth. They’d both decided to tread carefully for a few weeks, instead agreeing that if the opportunity presented itself, they’d tell everyone. Otherwise, they’d wait until after the wedding. 

So, Harry now found himself at Pansy and Ginny’s wedding party doing his best to avoid his husband. Neither of the soon-to-be-brides wanted a wedding shower, they’d already been living together for half a year and had already had to get rid of quite a bit of their possessions when they had consolidated into a singular household. The mother-of-the-brides had different ideas about it though. As it turned out, Molly Weasley and Priscilla Parkinson had a lot more in common than anyone would have possibly thought when it came to their ideas on required traditions. They had put aside their differences quite quickly when they realised they could use their combined power to pressure their daughters on their wedding choices. In the end, Pansy and Ginny had agreed on an engagement party about a month before the big day. 

While Draco and Harry had found themselves assigned to different tasks throughout the wedding planning so far, there was no way to avoid interaction at the engagement party. Harry and Draco were the entire wedding party because Pansy and Ginny had not wanted to pick and choose and potentially snub any of their friends. So, instead they both chosen their closest friend each and been done with it. 

In retrospect, Harry realized how likely it was that it would be the two of them to murder him and Draco when they found out. Originally, he’d been more worried about Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys, and he knew that Draco was most worried about his parents and being cut off from the Malfoy fortune, even if he mostly made his own money those days. But Ginny had become an increasingly close friend over the years, one of his closest confidants, in fact. And after the care that both of their friends had taken to make Harry and Draco comfortable through their wedding planning, thinking that the two of them hated one another, Harry felt a creeping shame at their continued dishonesty. They’d ultimately made things more difficult for the brides at a stressful time for the most ridiculous reason.

With a sigh at the thought, Harry downed the rest of his mimosa and grabbed another as a waiter walked by with a tray. Ginny and Pansy had both insisted on choosing this venue since both of their mothers were a bit over-involved with the actual wedding, so they found themselves on a rooftop garden of a new and swanky wizarding restaurant, just outside Diagon Alley. It was nice, Harry had to admit. The sun had just set, giving the city a bit of an extra glow beyond the lights that always lit up the sky to some extent. There were lush flowers and other greenery scattered all around the rooftop, creating little seating nooks where guests could break off and have more intimate conversations. Harry had never had much cause to regret how Draco and he had married. It was crazy and spontaneous and felt so right for their relationship. While by most standards, it might not have been particularly aesthetic or romantic, but he was so in love with the man that everything else was eclipsed by that.

Harry remembered vividly the way the neon lights bounced off Draco’s pale hair as Harry pulled him toward the small chapel in the middle of the downtown strip. He remembered the way Draco laughed brightly and held on to his hand tight. He remembered the way his heart felt like it was going to burst when he said, “I do.” Harry had loved the intimacy and the anonymity of it all—as if they were the only two people in the world in that little chapel with tacky metallic wallpaper and empty white pews. He had thought for a moment that Draco would run for the hills, break the whole thing off, but he never even flinched. 

For all that, though, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if they had missed out on something as they helped two of their closest friends plan a wedding not only to celebrate their own union but the joining of their families, much like Luna and Blaise’s baby shower. It had been only a few years after the war when it all started, the hook-ups, the eventual dates. They hadn’t thought there was any way their friends and family would ever support them in this. Not enough time had passed. But now, time had filed down the rough edges. Maybe not completely healed them, but it was no longer fresh. People had grown, could accept apologies, could give apologies. Now, it was possible for Ginny Weasley to marry the girl who had once offered up her friend and former boyfriend to the Dark Lord, and the biggest disagreements between the families had been where to hold the wedding. 

Molly Weasley had initially been extremely opposed to holding the wedding at the Parkinson Estate until Priscilla Parkinson had surprisingly, but smartly, invited her to tea to discuss decorations. From what Harry learned through Draco, Pansy had apparently made it very clear to her parents that if they wanted their daughter in their life, they would find a way to make it work with their soon to be in-laws. That had been something Harry would have never expected of the woman, but as it turned out, he hadn’t known her as well as he thought. She was snarky and a bit rude, but unfailingly protective of those she loved, which now included one Ginny Weasley. After that, Harry had warmed to her much more quickly, and they seemed to be nearing something almost like a friendship. 

While Harry and Draco may never have had their big ceremony, not that they were sure either of them would have necessarily wanted that anyway, they were so happy to help their friends with their own wedding. As Harry gave his toasts, only choking up a little, and Draco gave his, clearing his throat a few times as well, they caught each other’s eyes. Harry wondered if Draco wondered about it all, about if they’d missed something going about things the way they had. But in that moment, when their eyes locked briefly, too briefly for anyone else to catch, Harry knew it didn’t matter. He would have married that man in a smelly alley behind a seedy pub and still never regretted the decision. 

* * *

It was another pub night, and Draco made his way from Gringotts to the Dragon’s Lair. It was a beautiful early summer day, and he took his time making his way to the pub, enjoying the fresh air after a long day in the office. They had not planned out how they were going to break the news to their friend that night. Draco had become convinced that their insistence at having plans was the reason they were unable to come clean to their friends. They were jinxing themselves. They needed to just let it happen. So, he had insisted to Harry that they wait until the moment presented itself that evening. Secretly, he was convinced that this approach would break their streak of bad luck, and he was feeling pretty good about that evening. So, he wouldn’t rush. He would just get there at his own pace and the opportunity would present itself. He was sure of it. 

He pulled open the heavy wood door and made his way over to the table. As usual, everyone had already arrived. Whoever had made up the term “banking hours” had clearly not worked in financial investments. He rarely made it out of work at a reasonable hour. 

He took his usual seat next to Pansy and glanced down the table, as usual, just seeing that Harry was there. He was in his usual seat, next to Ron. Except, instead of Hermione sitting across from him, she was just to the side, replaced by a young man with dark hair and tanned skin. Draco didn’t recognise the man who was talking animatedly to Harry. On a closer look, Harry had that slightly peaked look he got whenever he was uncomfortable in social situations. 

“Who’s that?” he asked Pansy, gesturing down the table.

“Oh, you’ll love this. Hermione apparently decided to set Potter up with one of her co-workers.” Pansy snorted a laugh. 

“Pardon?” Draco asked, feeling the colour draining from his face.

Ginny glanced over at them with a grimace. “His name is Kevin. It’s like watching a train wreck. You just can’t look away.”

As if on cue, Harry let out a strangled nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting between Hermione and Ron as if they would save him. Draco wasn’t sure Harry had even noticed his arrival, and this time he was certain the man wasn’t avoiding him on purpose. 

“He’s currently on a date?” Draco asked.

“Yes?” Pansy looked at him. “What’s with you tonight? I assumed you’d love the opportunity to watch him make a fool of himself.”

“Hey,” Ginny said, elbowing Pansy in the side without so much as a glance away from Harry and Kevin. 

Draco exhaled a breath he’d held for a beat too long, too many confusing emotions swirling around for him to form a coherent thought. He was somewhere between being absolutely furious at the idea of his husband being  _ on a date _ , in front of him, and being on the verge of laughter at the absurdity of the situation. At the same time, like Ginny, he found himself morbidly fascinated by watching Harry behave so erratically. Draco felt his own face flush with second-hand embarrassment as he watched Harry try to take a drink of his beer but instead spill it on his shirt. 

Ginny hadn’t been wrong. It was a train wreck. Watching this, Draco found himself feeling grateful they’d started out with sex and skipped the awkward dating phase. He’s not sure they would have made it to a second date. Although, he also recognised that this was likely Harry panicking at being thrown into this awkward social situation. If ever that man had an Achilles heel, it was uncomfortable social situations that required small talk. Harry couldn't navigate his way out of them to save his life. If only Voldemort had known all he had needed to do was hide his Horcruxes at cocktail parties.

Draco pushed aside the beer that had been placed in front of him and made his way up to the bar. He needed to regroup and get a stronger drink. Of all the scenarios he had run through his head that day, preparing himself for possible situations, this was not one of them. This wasn’t even near the galaxy of circumstances he’d prepared for. What had he been thinking? Improvisation wasn’t one of his strong suits; he planned things out, took calculated risks, made back-up plans. That he might walk into the pub that evening to find his husband on a blind date at the other end of the table had never even entered his mind. 

He ordered a firewhiskey shot and quickly downed it, blowing the remaining smoke out of his nose in a huff of resignation. They were clearly doomed. He felt his shoulders relax as he accepted his fate, nothing to be done about it now. There’d be no way for them to make any sort of announcement without causing a scene. Well, at least he could watch the show, see what he missed out on first dates with Harry. He snorted at the thought and ordered another drink.

A double firewhiskey in hand, he made his way back to the table. This time, Harry looked up as Draco sat, eyes wide. Draco couldn’t tell if he was pleading for help or begging for forgiveness. Either way, Draco held up his firewhiskey in a toast and let a smirk pull up his lips before taking his seat. Harry’s eyes went even wider for a split second before narrowing. Draco couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, knowing Harry realised he was on his own to get himself out of this situation.

“So are we taking bets yet?” Pansy said, low enough that only their end of the table would hear. Lavender and Parvati perked up and turned to face them, momentarily distracted from watching the show of social ineptitude at the other end of the table. 

Ginny laughed, still shamelessly staring at the two men. “Okay, five gallons says Harry winds up on a second date since he won’t want to disappoint Kevin.” 

Everyone laughed as Draco let out a strangled noise, trying to school his expression. The worst thing was he could absolutely see Harry panicking and saying yes to a second date at the end of the night. That was absolutely not happening. 

“I say that after Harry gets over this socially awkward first date they actually start dating,” Parvati said, leaning over Ginny and slapping down her Galleons on the table. “Kevin is definitely cute.”

Draco bristled at the compliment, looking the man over carefully. He supposed he was rather attractive in that muscle-bound sort of way, if one liked that sort of thing.

“Hmmm,” Pansy dug through her purse, pulling out several Galleons. “I say he’s going to panic at some point during the night and call it off. He looks like he’s about to burst.”

“Okay, then,” Lavender said. “I say that Harry makes it through the night, but Kevin doesn’t ask him out on a second date because Harry is acting like a complete crackpot.”

A few people laughed at that, and then they turned to Draco, who cleared his throat.

“I think all the bases have been covered,” he said. 

“Ooo, we haven’t covered kissing,” Lavender suggested. 

Draco felt a bead of sweat drip down his temple. He didn’t care one bit about winning or losing the bet, but the part of his brain that was a tad superstitious could not possibly bet on his husband kissing another man. He quickly scanned his brain for what Harry would most likely do while he was this worked up and nervous. 

“I bet he spills his beer on Kevin before the night is over,” Draco said triumphantly. There. That was not only likely, knowing Harry, but also decidedly did  _ not _ involve Harry’s lips on anyone else’s mouth. Those were for him and him alone. 

Draco sat back and, with everyone else at their end of the table, watched the awkwardness unfold. Their friends were shameless. No one was even attempting to pretend that they were looking at anything else. To Draco’s irritation, though, Kevin didn’t seem to notice, as wrapped up in his conversation with Harry as he was. Merlin, couldn’t he tell how uncomfortable his “date” was?

Kevin was probably one of those people just excited at the idea of dating the Saviour of the Wizarding World, Draco thought with a sneer, taking a long drink of his firewhiskey. He tried to tamp down the jealousy, knowing Harry would never cheat on him. He knew that, he did. He just didn’t like the way Kevin was looking at him. Or  _ touching him _ . Draco nearly shot out of his seat as Kevin brushed his hand over Harry’s arm as he laughed at something Harry had said. Draco forced himself to stay in his seat, enjoying that Harry had startled so bad at Kevin’s touch that he had nearly gone airborne. 

Food arrived and got passed down the table. Draco mindlessly ate some chips and finished his beer, not taking his eyes off his husband except for the occasional glare directed at a none-the-wiser Kevin. Fortunately, no one attempted to make conversation, as they were all equally engrossed by the entertainment. 

Harry was busy focusing on the tart in front of him. He always craved something sweet when they were out drinking. After a few bites, Kevin leaned forward, just off his seat and reached to wipe something off Harry’s lips, lingering just long enough that Draco was about to upend the table and stop the whole thing. 

Before he could so much as move, Harry shot out of his seat so fast that he jostled the table, knocking over his beer which poured straight out in Kevin’s direction and onto his lap. Draco couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. Harry stammered out something that Draco couldn’t catch and actually ran to the door, catching Draco’s eye briefly as he beelined for the exit. 

Draco felt a relief wash over him. He wasn’t sure he could have taken much more anyway. So much for his theory that tonight would work out as long as they didn’t plan it out. 

Well, at least he won the bet. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hundreds of small baubles of light floated under the night sky, casting a warm glow over the party guests and gardens alike. The night had started out with a ceremony in the South Gardens, chairs set up just beside the long reflecting pool which caught the orange and pink of the setting sun just as the brides said their vows. It was perfection, and Harry had found a large lump growing in his throat as he listened to one of his closest friends tell the love of her life just what she meant to her, with all their loved ones as witnesses. Draco had looked similarly affected and they both struggled to keep their focus on the brides instead of staring past them into one another’s eyes. Only a few months ago, Harry had been nothing but anxious about telling everyone about them, and while he knew they had many apologies to give, he wanted nothing more than to tell the world how much he loved this man. Soon enough. 

After the ceremony, they had moved the festivities to the lawn. There was a large dark wood platform holding dozens of tables for the dinner while still leaving a large open space for a dance floor. Once they’d moved on past the speeches and the initial formal dances, they’d moved into a series of traditions that Harry was mostly unfamiliar with. Prior to attending his friends’ weddings over the past few years, his only knowledge of weddings had been based on Muggle movies and books, so he had at least a rough understanding of how they all worked. But the wizarding traditions were still a bit confusing to him. Many of his friends, like Ron and Hermione, had chosen to forgo the majority of the traditions. Since both Pansy and Ginny were purebloods, even if the Weasleys had embraced a more modern and inclusive take on it over the past few generations, they still felt that major occasions such as marriage should continue many of the traditions. While Ginny and Pansy had put an absolute stop to some of the more, as they had put it, gender normative traditions, they let their mothers have the ones they felt were innocuous enough. Ginny had rambled off a list at some point of the ones they were keeping, rolling her eyes at a few, but not feeling they were a worthy hill to die on. Harry had stuck to his role as a supportive best man and continued to nod along and agree with her when he was clearly expected to, not actually knowing what she was talking about. 

Now that he was at the wedding, he had to admit there was something special about having traditions that carried on, hearing guests of all ages sharing what they’d done at their own weddings or funny stories about how some of the traditional spell work had gone wrong when drunken guests were casting. 

Harry was laughing at one of these stories when Draco abruptly appeared next to him, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away toward the house. 

“What is it?” Harry asked as soon as he got over the initial shock.

“We need to get out of here right now,” Draco said under his breath.

Harry noted the tension radiating off him and felt his stomach drop. 

Once they’d made it through the west entrance, Draco dropped his grip and looked around wildly. 

“We need to hide,” he said.

“What?” Harry spun to look at him. “What is going on?”

“They are about to share the Chalice of _Amor Meam_ ,” Draco replied, before grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him down the hall into the kitchens and then into a dark pantry, lined with shelves of fresh produce and small glass jars. Once there, Draco cast a _Lumos_ before shutting the door and pacing small space for a moment, running a hand through his hair. “Hardly anyone does that anymore in pureblood families. I didn’t even think— Okay, we’ll just stay here for a bit, and it will be fine.”

“You are going to need to explain this to me,” Harry said. “This is one of the marriage traditions, right? I remember Ginny mentioning it. What does this have to do with us?”

“It’s a matchmaker spell, Harry. It used to be to help single people find their match at weddings, originally to help marry off the next generation, but it turned into a sort of romantic superstition that couples that found each other at weddings would have happy marriages. It fell out of practice in pureblood circles since it would often go against the parents’ plans for the child,” Draco explained, running another hand through his hair and biting his lip. 

“So it would show that we match?” Harry asked, still confused. He backed up to the shelves and leaned back, trying to give Draco more room to continue pacing. 

“No. It’s just a spell done to a punch or drink that changes colour to show potentially compatible wix. Probably why Ginny and Pansy allowed it, actually, since it’s not gender-specific and folks would be free to chat up anyone with a match that they were interested in,” Draco huffed a laugh.

“You’re still not explaining why this is a problem,” Harry said.

“Well, it doesn’t match up married people, Harry,” Draco replied. If Harry’s stomach hadn’t just dropped out, he would have definitely taken issue with Draco’s condescending tone just then. But as it was, the issue became crystal clear. 

“What happens to married couples’ drinks?” Harry asked.

“They turn a glimmering gold. And it’s obvious—there’d be no mistaking it for anything else. The match colours are all vibrant, blues, reds, pinks…”

“Well shit.” Harry leaned his head back on the shelf right behind it and took a deep breath. “That’s a problem.”

“Right.” Draco huffed, taking a jar off the shelf and transfiguring it into an ornate stool. He sat down with a huff. 

After all this. After literal months of them trying to tell everyone and failing miserably, they could walk out there right now and have a drink do it for them. Harry felt a laugh bubbling up. 

Draco looked up at him as Harry started shaking, first quietly and then, eventually, the laughter escaping his lips. 

“What has got into you?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry took a minute to calm down and then slid down to the floor, sitting down and pulling his knees up in front of him. “I can’t believe we let it get to this.”

Draco’s lip quirked up in a crooked smile. “We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?”

“Merlin. It just all seemed so logical at the time,” Harry said.

“And now we’re hiding in a pantry at our best friends’ wedding so that nobody finds out.” Draco let out a huff of a laugh. 

“Right.” Harry knocked his foot against Draco’s. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened? If we’d just been honest from the start?”

Draco looked thoughtful. “You mean do you wonder if we could have had all this?”

“Well, not this exactly. I still don’t think I would have wanted a large wedding.”

“But you mean, have our friends and family together?” Draco slid off his stool and scooted over to the side of Harry, repositioning his dress robes as he sat down, pressing up against Harry’s side. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied, turning to look at him.

“Back then? I know not that much time has passed, but we were only a few years out from the war.” Draco slipped his hand in Harry’s, threading their fingers. “I’m not sure it would have been so easy.”

Harry nodded. 

“Do you regret it?” Draco eye’s travelled over Harry’s face, searching. 

“No. Not a second of it actually,” Harry replied, a small smile forming over his face. “I love everything about our life, Draco.”

“I know that. I just meant to regret not doing it differently?”

“I don’t know that I regret how we did it. Or at least not maybe until recently. But it would be nice to be able to dance together tonight, you know?” Harry dropped his head on his husband’s shoulder, still holding his hand tightly. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Before they could regret it for much longer, footsteps sounded right in the kitchen, clicking against the hard tile. They both froze. 

“Harry and Draco—we know you’re in here,” Ginny’s voice rang out. “I don’t know what you two are playing at but you had better not be fighting.”

“And you had better be decent. I swear to fuck if you two decided to bury the hatchet tonight of all nights and have a one-night stand during my wedding, I will kill you both,” Pansy threatened.

They simultaneously looked at one another, eyes wide and then jumped up, straightening out their clothing. Draco took a beat before opening the door to reveal both brides looking furious, a stark contrast to the softness of their dresses. 

“What are you two doing?” Pansy asked, her eyes darting around the pantry behind them as if it would hold the answer.

“Erm—We needed to talk about a surprise for you two,” Harry offered at the same time that Draco said, “We needed to find more crackers.”

The two men looked at each other with matching expressions of irritation. 

“Crackers, really?” Harry asked, an eyebrow raised. For all the shit Draco gave him about his terrible ability to lie, Draco wasn’t much better when put on the spot. Not that he’d ever admit that. 

“Okay, you know what? We don’t have time for whatever this is,” Ginny said, waving her hand between them. “We were waiting for you to get started on the _Amor Meam_ and no one could find you. So come on.”

Both women made to leave, gesturing for the men to follow.

Harry and Draco stayed rooted to the spot, and Harry could feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat.

“What is the problem?” Pansy asked, her voice taking on a dangerous pitch. 

Draco stood there frozen, barely breathing, and Harry knew immediately he would be no use in getting them out of this. Given enough notice, Draco could construct the most elegant half-truths to get out of any situation, something Harry never thought he’d appreciate until they found themselves in the situation they did with their relationship. But put on the spot with no notice, and he became completely useless. Harry sighed and made a decision.

“We can’t participate,” he said.

“What do you mean you can’t participate?” Ginny asked.

Harry took a fortifying breath. “We don’t want to make a scene at your wedding. We’re so sorry we are telling you like this, and we are aware that we are going to be in so much trouble, but we can’t participate… because we’re married."

Harry heard Draco let out an exhale and realised the man might not have been breathing at all. He grabbed his hand for support and squeezed. Draco seemed to snap out of it at the movement and glanced over at Harry with a small but terrified smile. 

“I don’t get it,” Ginny said after a minute brow furrowed.

“What?” 

“I assume you are messing with us, but I don’t get it.” Ginny looked at Pansy, who also looked several levels of confused. 

“We’re not messing with you. We’re married.”

“Yeah you are going to need to explain this again. Because I keep hearing that you are married, which cannot possibly be true.” Ginny huffed and looked back at Pansy again, whose eyes were narrowing. Harry had a feeling she was putting two and two together, even if Ginny wasn’t.

“Well, erm—” Harry started, caving a bit under the intense and increasingly angry stares. “We started dating a few years ago before everyone got along and everything, and erm— you know…” He looked over at Draco who was fiddling with his collar with his free hand, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Are you going to help me out here?”

“What?” Draco looked over at him, eyes wide. “You seem to have it.”

“I clearly do not have it,” Harry replied in a harsh whisper. “Help me out.”

“What do you want me to say?" Draco asked.

“I don’t know, literally anything!” Harry said. 

“But you already told them, what else is there to say?” 

“Was it an accident?” Ginny asked, almost sounding hopeful.

“An accident?” Harry asked, momentarily distracted from his frustration and panic. “How would we accidentally get married?”

“I don’t know—accidental bonding, some crazy pureblood ritual you stumbled into, I don’t know how! How would you intentionally get married?! You hate each other!” She yelled, hands waving in front of her she paced the room. Pansy was still stock still, but Harry could see the wheels turning. 

Harry sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Ginny. We don’t hate each other. We haven’t hated each other for a long time. We were afraid everyone would be against it.”

Ginny stopped pacing and looked back and forth between the two men. “Why would we be against it? Pansy and I have been together for nearly half a year; we’ve been friends with Draco for a couple of years now.”

“Before that, I mean.”

“Just how long have you two been together?” she asked, eyes narrowing. 

Harry cleared his throat, glancing at Draco who was fixing his cufflinks and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. He suppressed an eye roll.

“Four years,” Harry mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Four years,” he said louder. “But we’ve only been married for a little under a year, and we didn't buy the house until after that. So before that, it was just dating.”

“You fuckers,” Pansy said. “ _Oh, Pansy, you can’t come over, house totally wrecked, so busy renovating._ And Potter, I cannot believe I believed your bug infestation stories for a minute. Half of them didn’t even make sense! I just assumed you didn’t understand what the magical pest exterminators were telling you!”

“Oh my god,” Ginny said, the pieces finally clicking in place. 

Harry continued to rub the back of his neck, staring off to the side of the room, while Draco continued fixing and re-fixing the cuff links. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ginny said again, her face turning red. Harry knew they were about to get a Weasley tongue-lashing. Harry would never ever tell Ginny, but she bore a striking resemblance to her mother when she was in a temper about something. 

Just as she inhaled to start reaming them out, the kitchen door swung open, a group of their friends behind it. Seeing them again all dressed to the nines for the event reminded Harry they had a wedding to get back to. So much for not making a scene. 

“Everything okay?” Hermione asked as she walked in. Ron, Neville, Luna, Blaise, and Parvati all filed in behind her, spreading out in the large kitchen around the two couples. 

“Mum’s trying to get the drink ritual thing started,” Ron said, looking between Harry and Ginny, brow furrowed. The tension was still thick.

A large and dangerous smile formed on Ginny’s face. “Harry and Draco have something to tell you all.”

Harry felt his face flush, and he wanted nothing more than to run for the door. He glanced around frantically. He wouldn’t make it. Too many people between them and the door at this point. Draco was still looking around like he was visiting an art gallery, glancing around the room as if no one else was there and he was simply trying to decide what to look at first. Harry had to suppress a snort, hit with the sudden realisation of how much they deserved each other. Merlin, they were hopeless.

Fuck it, he could be the Gryffindor here.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Okay, he could be a little Gryffindor; he just didn’t want to see all their disappointment. “Draco and I started secretly dating years ago, then we got married, have a house and a dog, and we’re so sorry we lied to all of you.” 

His confession was met with silence. He slowly peeked open an eye to see five shocked faces and two smug and irritated ones. 

The silence was worse than Ginny’s yelling. Harry wanted to crawl out of his skin, from the nervous movements next to him, Draco was feeling much the same. 

Eventually, there was some movement, the sounds of breathing in the air again. 

Luna was the first to finally break the tension, looking thoughtful. “Huh.”

“I don’t understand,” Ron said, freckles standing out against his face which was now drained of all colour. 

“Holy shit,” Parvati said under her breath. Her expression was morphing from shock to glee. Harry supposed he didn’t need to worry about telling the rest of their friends. No way was she going to keep quiet about this. 

Like Pansy, Hermione was the first to put the pieces together. “Oh my god, the houses. That’s why we couldn’t ever come over.” She hid her hands in her face. 

“You haven’t been single this whole time?” Ron asked.

“Erm, no,” Harry said, shifting his weight, fighting every instinct to just run out the door. 

Parvati was full-blown smiling at that point. “Holy shit. How long?”

“Erm—total? We’ve been together a bit over four years.” Harry realised he was still the only one answering any questions and elbowed Draco in the side, who gave him a dirty look, which Harry returned. 

“You have a dog?” Ron asked. 

Harry shrugged. 

“That’s so nice,” Luna said, smiling as if this whole situation was perfectly normal. 

“Oh my god,” Hermione said. “I set you up on a date!”

“Yes, you did,” Harry said, pressing his lips together and giving her a look that expressed just how much he appreciated that. Everyone burst out laughing and started replaying that night, much to Harry’s irritation. He hadn’t even known it was possible to humiliate himself so much in such a short period of time before. Draco had been ruthless about it, reenacting Harry’s less than graceful exit at their kitchen table several times over the following weeks. 

“So,” Blaise spoke up quietly. “Draco.”

Draco froze beside him. 

“When you said you couldn’t come to dinner, or the party a few months ago, or out for drinks after work because you were renovating your house.” Blaise raised an eyebrow looking somewhere between impressed and pissed off. Harry would never understand Slytherins, not even being married to one. 

“Right, well. You see—” Draco stammered.

“Ginny!” Molly Weasley’s voice came from down the hall outside the kitchen. “Everyone is waiting!”

“Sorry, Mum!” she hollered. “We just had to work something out. We’re on our way.”

She turned back to Harry and Draco, and pointing her finger at them, said, “You two are staying here. You can get right back in that pantry and think about what you did until the coast is clear”

“Maybe we’ll come to get you when the _Amor Meam_ is done,” Pansy said lightly, looking at her nails. 

Hermione snorted.

“What’s that?” Blaise asked, tilting his head. Everyone looked at him. “Did I hear Draco and Harry said they were getting drinks for the next year?”

Pansy snorted and Ginny’s smile grew. Harry supposed they could afford it… and that they deserved that. Hell, if that was the worst they had to deal with, he’d count themselves lucky. He knew the pub night would also be filled with incessant ribbing, but at that thought, he also visualised sitting next to Draco, not having to hide anymore and thought he would put up with all of it just for that. 

“That is so generous of you two,” Ginny said. “I’m so glad you offered to take me and Pansy out for a few dinners also.”

“And babysitting,” Blaise added. “The twins are quite the handful.”

“You don’t live at Grimmauld Place?” Ron asked, still clearly processing the news.

Hermione sighed and patted her husband on the arm, before looking back at Harry. “We’re not done talking about this.”

Harry nodded his head. “I know.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay, as much as I love watching these two squirm, we have a wedding to get back to.” Pansy gestured toward the door before pointing at Harry and Draco and then back at the pantry. 

Harry doubted it was actually necessary for them to hide in the pantry at this point but was not about to argue with either of the brides. They could take their punishments. He grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him back to the pantry to wait it out. 

After an hour, Draco said there was no way that the _Amor Meam_ was still going on, so they slowly stood up, stretching out their muscles which were cramped from the tight quarters. Harry leaned over and gave him a kiss. No matter how much shit their friends gave them, he was happy they knew. No more lies, no more excuses. They could just be. 

Draco smiled that soft smile he reserved just for Harry, well him and Minnie. But to Harry that smile meant family, and he cherished it. 

They made their way through the halls toward the entrance to the gardens. Before they could make their last turn, another couple turned down the hall. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood before them, dressed in their wedding best. 

Harry and Draco froze.

“Mother, father,” Draco said. 

“You missed the _Amor Meam_ ,” Narcissa said, raising an eyebrow.

Harry held his breath. He hadn’t expected to have to deal with their families so soon.

“Yes, we, er, had some groomsmen things to attend to. We’re heading back out,” Draco said, gesturing toward the way the other Malfoys had come. 

Lucius’s eyes narrowed for a split second and then smoothed out. Harry wondered how familiar with his son’s lying he was. Either way, he let it go. They waited for Harry and Draco to reach them before falling into a pace beside them. 

“So, Draco. I know you’ve been busy renovating, but I would love to stop by tomorrow and see the progress. Nora was just telling me about how her daughter’s house renovation was going and I was thinking how much I would love to see the house,” Narcissa said, conversationally.

“Oh,” Draco replied. “Absolutely, Mother, but it can’t be this week. The renovators have the whole place warded off while they do structural work. I’ve been apparating straight into the bedroom. Could take a month, even.”

Harry looked over at him, and Draco shrugged subtly, panic still etched on his face. Well, there was always next month.


End file.
